


I Vow to Stay by Your Side

by Awkwardly_Asexual



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF John Watson, Child Abuse, Developing Relationship, High School, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, John Watson-centric, M/M, Middle School, Protective Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Slow Burn, Teen John, Teen Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-02-07 07:32:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12836313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awkwardly_Asexual/pseuds/Awkwardly_Asexual
Summary: John Watson's life is a living hell, due to his abusive father and alcoholic sister. Can Sherlock return the light John brings to him back into Johns world, or will he only make things even worse for his only friend?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I'm new and fragile treat my kindly please. However criticism is the birth of growth and improvement... I hope you enjoy and if you don't feel free to tell me why

_ Sherlock _

      It was Sebastian Wilkes this time, his meaty fists pounding me into our private middle schools cheap blue and white checkered tile.

His parents in the middle of a divorce, Father had a love affair obvious. Less obvious was that it was a gay tryst and he was feeling pressure from his mom to exert his masculinity, mundane.

Idly I wondered how Mycroft would try to convince me on the car ride home later today to tell our parents, I do so hope my fat slob of a brother wouldn’t attempt to bribe me with sweets again.

     Sherlock tensed for the next punch but to his surprise it never came. Instead a grunt could be heard above him as … none other than the popularly labelled 'black and blue John Watson’ stood above him. Grunting as Sebastian fists added to Johns amalgamation of bruises and cuts.

John flexed for every hit, yet never attempted to raise his arms or even try to defend himself. Why? Briefly I considered maybe John was just that stupid but no, he was top of their grade and from the beatings he clearly regularly received from his Dad; Apparent by the size of his bruises. He should at least know how to defend himself. Mysterious indeed…

      “Its no fun beating the battered kid” Sebastian sneered, the crowed slowly dissipated seeming to agree with the moron “maybe John can help stitch you up, since he’s so used to doing it for himself” Sebastian said as a parting, making a crude gesture.

“You really would think you’d tire of being punched.” Sherlock huffed, I wasn’t a damsel in distress I didn’t need this pitiful boy’s help.

     John turned to face me then cocking his head to the side and chuckling, as his bright blonde hair reflected the sun with pale iridescent strands. “Maybe I’m just to dumb to learn, we can’t all be geniuses.” He teased sticking his calloused hand down to help me up. I pushed it aside and stood on my own already an inch and a quarter taller then John. Looking down at him without the light playing tricks I saw John for what he really was…

“Why would I want your help? Your Fathers abusive, mother’s dead and your sister’s a drunk” I stated smug prepared for the excuses he poured down teachers’ throats, I hoped he wouldn’t tell me the awful stairwell excuse.

He flinched obviously hurt how plebeian. He opened and closed his mouth, what was he a fish? as I opened my mouth to voice my thoughts. He smirked whipping the hurt from his features “that’s hardly a deduction, everyone knows that. I thought you were smart?”

He whipped the bloody hand he’d been offering me on his dirtied trousers and proceeded to walk down the hall, if not for the limp I would ‘almost’ be impressed by him. Alas I was annoyed that he had yet again managed to surprise me.

     It became a game we played I would corner him and say something I had deduced about him that day;

“Rhubarb jam is your favourite! I can tell be the stain on your cheek and the number of crumbs on your uniform lapels”

“True but hardly impressive, you could have seen me this morning in the breakfast line”

“You’re struggling in Adv. Chemistry, your studying the subject more than any of the other students and you haven’t even bothered to start your English paper”

“I’m … fine, but I've already finished the paper."

     It had taken a month; but I found John and I met before classes, during lunch and waited for our siblings to pick us up after school. Loathe to admit it even if only to myself, I was trying to impress John.

He was the only person who didn’t sneer at my deductions or fear my intelligence, to my surprise and indignation John didn’t actually think I was all that intelligent in the first place, if his chuckling at my failed astronomy exam was anything to go by.

     One Crisp morning at the school entrance where I had become accustomed to meeting John I realized something terrible.

“Your wasn't dead, was she?” John looked up from his hands where he’d been staring, his blue eyes swimming in tears making them glint beautifully in the winter sun.

“How did you know?” he asked keeping his watery blue eyes locked with mine.

The school bench John sat on creaked with the wind, I couldn’t keep eye contact shamefully I looked away. “It really wasn’t that impressive, you have a hospital bracelet on your wrist; it can’t be your sister in the hospital she dropped you off this morning and it’s not your dad because the fresh bruise around your neck.” Tears dripped down Johns rosy cheeks “amazing” he whispered.

     Sherlock sat beside him on the bench in awe. I had revisited John every day because he failed to react as other did. Surely this time I thought John will have had enough and punch me for being to close. to my never ending surprise John hadn’t, instead he cried silently and Sherlock realized that maybe perhaps they were just two lonely boys the world decided to despise. Nervously I reached out for Johns hand and grasped it, silently telling him he wasn’t alone any more. Desperately hoping that meant maybe I wasn’t either.


	2. Chapter 1. I will Never Say No to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some bonding shit that took a life of it's own and became a chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finals suck, Johns life sucks, Sherlock is a doll (metaphorically) -a poem by me

_ Sherlock _

 

     Sherlock had never tried so hard to do, well anything before. Yet he found himself dedicating time and brain power into cheering John up after his mother unfortunate demise.

He had told me later that day that she had never truly recovered after giving birth to him and as she had grown more ill his father became more angry. Until eventually mum was in the hospital to frequently to stop dad from beating him.

It was easy to deduce, Johns father was the root cause of John’s Mothers demise. Most likely he had given her aids and struck his very innocent son out of the blinding guilt.

      I flinched as always when delivering deductions, John as always smiled. He went on to explain that he had always suspected his dad wasn't the most faithful and since John had taken up reading medical texts in a blind effort to save his mum. He had also found aids to be the most likely of answers.

Much to my displeasure I still after all these months, caught John reading medical texts. Commonly when the bruises where particularly bad or his sister was to hungover to drive him to school.

It was on these days when John was reading ‘Oxfords text books of medicine’ he was on volume 6 now, that I would try my hardest to cheer John up.

“John surely you must know that recently the office has been repeatedly stolen from?” I spoke pulling the heavy text book from Johns shivering hands, he’d clearly walked this morning obvious by the wind burn on his cheeks and the dampness of his horrid jumper. “Sherlock, you know I haven’t heard any news I was ill yesterday, so I called in absent.” Of course Sherlock knew that, he was using that very knowledge to his advantage currently.

“Where you absent? No wonder my day wasn’t filled with tedious question and repetitive compliments” I said hoping he’d never stop

John broke out into a blinding smile “you love my compliments and if I didn’t ask you dumb questions you’d never get to brag enough for me to compliment you in the first place” they laughed a feeling Sherlock almost didn’t register as odd any more. John was like that, he somehow managed to make the ‘freak’ Sherlock Holmes feel not normal, never normal... but accepted.

“So, what’s this school wide scandal I’ve missed out on” John asked taking his text book back and sealing it in the confines of his book bag.

“Tedious John I told you, there’s a thief among us and I plan to get to the bottom of it!”

     John burst with laughter gasping “This isn’t gonna be like the mold incident is it?”

I Blushed embarrassed but unable to be anything but happy alongside John “how was I supposed to know it was a natural dye if you wouldn’t even let me touch it!”

“I wasn’t gonna let you touch it! If it was mold it could have made you sick” John’s laughter ceased, and I feared his thoughts where straying to far so I added

“At least the kitchen serves better food now.” John grinned again

“you got the whole school shut down for the day because your brother called the FDA inspection team”

Sherlock grinned “A day you got to spend with me.”

     The bell rang signalling that classes were beginning, John stood hefting his bag onto his shoulder with a pained flinch. I grabbed his arm and whispered for him to meet me during lunch in the janitors closest nearest the Office.

I couldn’t be bothered to listen in any of my morning classes and instead spent my day deducing my fellow classmates. I’d long since deduced my instructor and beside owning to many cats nothing in her life was of any interest. My note books were filled with hastily scribbled deductions I could later tell John. Though admittedly I didn’t know how interested he’d be in Donavon possibly being pregnant and who the culprit was, most likely Anderson but I would need more proof for John to be impressed.

When the final bell for lunch rang I darted out of the classroom ignoring the papers being passed out, I surely had points knocked off for forgetting to do something the teacher had said instead of bothering to write on the homework.

I wasn’t surprised when I arrived at the closet to see John hadn’t arrived yet. He was probably grabbing us both lunch, and while at first it drove me insane I have since come to realize John was no stranger to hunger and recognized it in me even before I did. It was those small surprising details that drew me to John. Things I should despise as weakness yet, John has faced the worst kind of suffering I’ve yet to come across and was the kindest person I’d yet to meet. I wish albeit hopelessly, that Johns kindness would only be for me and that to him I was just as irreplaceable as he had become to me. 

The blinding light that shone in as the door opened made me jump and my cheeks heated as a familiar voice chuckled tossing me an apple.

“You look like the bogeyman hiding away in dark closets” John chuckled sitting on overturned mop bucket and ate his grilled cheese. To avoid the awkwardness of total darkness and maybe because a small part of me wanted to see Johns face as he smiled I turned my phones flashlight on an laid it on the dirty ground.

“So what the plan?” John asked between bites.

I smirked “You always ask the wrong questions; the right question is who did it.” John rolled his eyes

“Okay who did it and how do we catch them?” ahh perfect obstinate John. I hadn’t actually planned on catching them, but I couldn’t very well say no to John, much to my annoyance.

“Obvious, the office is always empty during lunch so whoever comes here and enters the office supply closet is the perpetrator. The next step is easy, we catch them as they leave the office supply closet.”

     With a plan in motion, they both sat in the relative dark and waited till they heard the door to the office open and click shut.

Then they both ran rather loudly to the office and waited till they heard another door open. When they did they snuck inside and to Sherlock's delight John tackled the head Math teacher onto the ground, spilling pockets full of staple boxes.

“We got you thief!” John proclaimed smiling brightly back at me. Only to see me doubled over in laughter a look of confusion crossed his face before the teacher below him grumbled “bloody, kids I swear.” Shoving John off and slowly standing with a hand on his knee. Reaching into his pocket and pulling out a box of staples “They keep running out in the maths department, secretaries are to stuck up to give us anymore” John immediately jumped to help the Professor and apologized profusely turning a deep red and shouting “Sherlock your big scandal was a complaining secretary!!!!” I was still gasping for breath but tried my best to utter “i..I.. nev, never thought you…. Would tackle him” and I burst out in tears of laughter anew

John muttered “you’re an ass” but started to laugh along any way. “Crap what about…” but the teacher just left grumbling about dumb kids and dusting off his trousers. John beamed at Sherlock “I guess that means were in the…” John started coughing and clutching his stomach and I froze blood, John was coughing up blood. 

“John! What do I do? You’re the medical expert not me, Please!” I whimpered clutching my friend. I knew likely there was nothing I could do but what if… and suddenly every poison and deathly allegory that was even vaguely related to my John symptoms ran through my mind.

 “Shhhh, Sherlock I’m okay. Just open your eyes and look at me” I hadn’t realized my eyes were closed, I took my time looking him over as we both sat on cool tile clutching each other’s arms. When did that happen? But I couldn’t let go. Even though Johns sweater only had a few specks of blood decorating it. I focused on them thinking how wrong it was that Johns blood was on the outside of him.

John Took a deep shuddering sigh, shifting my hands that still clasped the arms of his sweater sleeves. “What happened to me?” John asked brow furrowed clearly not wanting me to know but trying to help me focus. I shouldn’t, I knew but I couldn’t ever say no to John.

 “What always happens but this time…. He hadn’t taken off his steal toed work boots. John your ribs?” John just nodded with a forced smile “Right as always.”

 “John this isn’t okay! Please, let’s just do something. Let me, call the police.”

 “Where would I go Sherlock” he looked up at me sadly

“With me, idiot! There’s more than enough room, my parents already adore you for putting up with me. While Mycroft might not be the biggest fan of you, he surely doesn’t hate you.”

John just shook his head looking down.

 “Why! Why would you want to stay? Your father is killing you John! Can’t you see it, can’t you feel it!!”

 “My sister…”

“Doesn’t even bother to help you! She runs and hides and gets intoxicated and lets you suffer. She’s not worth staying for, she doesn’t stay for you!” Tears sprung to his eyes and a part of me wanted to stop wanted to comfort him, hold his hand like I had the last time I saw him cry.

“Please stop Sherlock I can’t leave, just please, I can’t!”

 “But you can, with me.” I whispered but held my tongue from saying anything further. I couldn’t ever deny John; even to save him from himself, from his father, from his family.


	3. an Old Childhood Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this has plot!!!! and fluff!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College started up again and I sorta stopped posting ...Forgive me

“Stop it”  
I sighed at John as he approached our Morning hangout, the bench in front of the school. He looked up eyes wide in surprise “wha…”

“The makeup, stop wearing it. The bruises are still just as obvious.” I monotoned, I wouldn’t admit to John that it hurt to know he was hiding things from me. Even if he was doing so incredibly poorly.

“How di… did you know?” he stuttered face aflame with embarrassment.

“It’s the wrong shade of foundation for your skin, you stole your sisters and earned another punch from her in the process.” I frowned at the notion of the last of Johns living relatives both hitting him.

John laughed “Yeah fat cow said I’d use it all up on my ugly mug.”

“If you want to make your mug look better all you need to do is stop getting punched in the face”

“Sherlock, I told you to stop. I even started to wear makeup, so you wouldn’t have to think about it.”

“I know”

“Wanna blow up something in class?” John asked pulling two miniature black cat fireworks out of his trousers pocket.

“Why John I though you would never approve of such a dangerous thing?”

“Normally your right, but… I though you might still be mad at me and I wanted to smooth things over.”  
Did John not know I could never stay mad at him? Never the less I grabbed the miniature explosives and for the first time in a long while John and I were the first to class. Although much to my ire separately, John and I alas didn’t actually have any classes together.

I needed to do something drastic if I wanted John to hear about it before lunch “…oriarty , a new student” my head snapped up, What was that?  
There stood James Moriarty a face I’d tried very hard to forget. He was staring at me and as soon as I had looked up our eyes had met. He smiled and waved subtly. This was bad.

“Feel free to choose a seat” the teacher dismissed, I suddenly regretted forcing everyone away from me because now the only empty seats were directly next to me. I should have endured Sally’s spit balls and Molly’s pinning.

“Why hello Sherlock, I’m hurt you didn’t stay in contact with me after I moved.” James grinned sitting in the seat next to me.

“Must have slipped my mind” I struggled to sound confident and not like I was making excuses

James must have found my answer sufficient as he smiled. “I’m sure you were very caught up in the samples I left for you.”  
My left hand started to tremble, and I shoved my traitor hands into my pockets.

Every strike of the second hand made me tense every sweep of a minute hand made me flinch the constant ticking made me sick. How could time pass so slowly? Time had seemed to fly by recently there where only a few months of 8th grade left, John. John had made this school year fly and now, now I was with the exact opposite of John.  
James, there names where so ironically similar it made me ill. James the boy who’d made me fear human nature and what friendship was and John who redefined everything.

“Sherlock… mate?” I flinched as someone touched my shoulder, John. His eyes shown blue and murky with confusion wrinkles bunching above his nose, I wanted to smooth the wrinkles back out again.

“I’m still concerned” he said starting to smile now that he had my attention. It was then I realized I was sitting in our hangout spot and other people where milling about with lunch trays. I was drawn aback, I hadn’t noticed anything since James Moriarty in first period.

“John why didn’t you get lunch?” I asked harshly embarrassed at how frazzled James had left me.

“I was worried about you… I didn’t hear about anything in school blowing up.” John whimpered, guilt flooded me. John was shouted at enough I knew better then to snap at him.

“Lets go retrieve lunch” I stood grabbing my bag

“Both of us? what have you done with stoic Sherlock?” John laughed "I never thought you’d admit hunger” John continued to jest going so far as poking me in the ribs, a blush slowly creeping up my face. He was so close to me.

“I was curious where you ran off to after class” James spoke standing in the entrance of the hallway that led to the cafeteria.  
I froze, No! no, no, no, no.

“Sorry, do you know Sherlock?”

“Obviously, Sherlock lets go. I’m here now so you can ditch the idiot.” James huffed turning around to walk further into the school down the hall.  
I looked over to John he was glaring at James his small hand reached out and grabbed mine turning to walk back where we had come from and away from James.

“I don’t think we should ignore him”

“Sherlock! What? Why? He’s an ass.” John shouts maybe for the first time since I’ve ever known him.  
I flinch “I just…”

“I’m tired of being pushed around by people. Sherlock, please you’re my only friend.” Johns eyes look so hopeful, I will never be able to tell John no.

“Okay” I let him pull me away, trying not to think of how James will respond to the slight. I Know better then to think he will be letting this go.

Johns stomach insists on growling all lunch brake “Come to my house after school?” I ask hoping to feed John. John knows this ploy though and I have little faith he will say yes.  
“Fine” …John does always manage to surprise me though. “But you have to tell me everything about The kid from earlier.” John eyes are serious. I’ve never told anyone everything about James. To my surprise there’s no hesitation “Yes.”

John deflates into giggles falling back into the grass, “I thought I was going to have to fight you about this. Sit here and wheedle it out of you.”  
I smile unabashed, he looks beautiful the sun reflecting his freckles and making his wild hair glow. “It’s only fair, I’ve always known everything about you.”  
John brings his chin down to his chest to look at me while he lays there “We’ll meet here after school then?” serious again even though he’s sporting a double chin.

“Yes, Mycroft will pick us up.”

“Good, lets go will be late for class.”

Much to my relief I only had the one class with James but of course James was waiting for me outside after school got out.

“What do you want?” I cross my arms to keep my hands from shaking.

“I’m curious what you see in Johnny boy? What makes that pathetic abused sap better then me Sherlock?” James sneered disdain dripping from his tongue. I had been expecting this all day and yet I still wasn’t sure the best course of action, I hesitated.

“You care for him?!? Pathetic, did you learn nothing from Carl? Your better, we’re better then all of them!” He was so close now shouting voice crescendo-ing as he approached me. My face soured John was perfect and how dare he mention Carl!

“You have to choose Sherlock, me or him? But know, if you choose him I won’t stop.” Stop? Stop what? What had he done!?!

“Johns probably in the nurses about now…” James said leaving me to enter one of the many waiting cars in the parking lot. I ran back toward the school, shoes barely keeping friction on the grass. I heard Mycroft yell exiting his car confused. I wouldn’t stop to explain. Please No, not John. My John.The door to the nurse’s office slammed against the wall, part of my brain realizing that I had done that to all the doors between John and me. The nurse on duty scowled aged and ugly wrinkles giving her the appearance of a pit-bull.

“young sir…”

“Shut up! Where’s John?” I shouted frantic

“Why, I do…” She started yet again.

“I’m in here Sherlock, don’t be rude.” Johns laughter broke into coughs, it didn’t matter. John! My beautiful John. He was here, and everything was okay now.

“What did he do?” It was a stupid question. I could see what he had done, John lay on a cot bandage and bruised. James had, had my John beat, worse then i'd ever seen.  
‘…But know if you choose him I won’t stop…’


	4. Family Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the last chapter until I realized how extensively long it would be if I didn't cut it up into two parts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have an excuse for why its taking 7 millennia for me to post, i'm sorry.

_Sherlock_  

     “Sherlock, this is ridiculous you can’t be serious!” John was livid, absolutely furious.

It broke my heart to have his rage directed at me, but the affect was severely lessened by the crushing disparity that engulfed me at the sight of Johns fresh still bleeding  bruises. It was hard enough to gaze at the yellowing bruises of yesterdays late night beatings regularly doled out by his father. However, to know I was the reason his rosy lips were bloody and split, why his eye was a pallet of cool coolers sealed shut and puffy. I couldn’t have that, rather John be friendless then abused by another person he loved.

     “I’ll tell you everything about James Moriarty and my relations and even a idiot like you’ll understand why I have to sever our friendship John.”

     “Sherlock!...” The rapid change from cheeks puffed and red with anger to the blank and blanched look John now carried was enough to give me whiplash.

     “…at least, I get to know why. Your choosing him over me.” Three times I had heard John yell today. John hated yelling, he had shouted in my defense this morning at school and now twice in enmity at me. Only for it to end with hopeless resignation and soft tears welling in his eyes slowly wetting his bruised freckled cheeks.

     O’my beautiful John, could I even call him mine anymore? Even if it was all only in my mind palace. I was making him cry, I was breaking both our hearts in one fowl swoop. This is exactly why I had to leave, I was the only person who still protected him. Even from myself.

     “It started as business meeting play dates. James, Carl, and I all come from a scholarly prenatal upbringing, so we where lumped together in bland out of the way offices while our parents sat in and directed conferences. It wasn’t bad at first, I would typically read while James would best Carl at chess or some such other. It was annoying the endless taunting and embarrassment James made Carl suffer through but beside being a noisy nuisance, it hardly affected me. One day James insisted I play him a match of chess, I was determined not to be the brunt of James’ mockery and tied with him after a 45-minute game. It was in that moment I earned James respect which is precisely what I had wanted and would later learn the price his respect came with. Things changed after that James expected me to go along with his childish antics of bullying Carl and while I took great effort to not actively participate in Carl's abuse I by no means tried to stop or deter any of it. It’s an excuse I know, but it was around that time that I had first become the victim of my own play grounds bully's. The last thing I wanted was to be harassed at my parents bi-monthly work functions. We were at the Four Seasons Hotel; our parents had left us behind together confident in our ability to watch ourselves or at least be caught by the numerous hotel staff. James wanted to sneak into the indoor pool that was closed. Carl begged not to, he couldn’t swim. Just another inadequacy James could add to the already very long list. I had just learned to lock pick, I had been practicing on Mycroft’s door. We got in no problem, I didn’t even leave any scratches on the lock… I was so proud. James pushed Carl into the tarp covered pool and just watched as Carl struggled. Carl just kept wrapping himself in the tarp until we couldn’t see him anymore, but we could hear him. The wet slaps of his arms against the water, the chocked off gargling shouts for help…”

     Warm.

     Johns arms where around me holding me, I was shaking wracked with tears. John, John was so warm. I hadn’t realized how cold I was, I felt cold and wet just like I had back at the pool… but no, John was here now. Warm wonderful John, who I needed to protect.

     “Sherlock, you’ve never told anyone this?”

     “I was terrified... what he would do to me, if I did.”

     “I can’t let you choose him Sherlock, not after what you’ve told me.” John said with such fierce determination.

     “You don’t understand that’s exactly why I have to, I won’t let him hurt you, kill you” …I love you

     “Sherlock, no.” O’ John perfect warm giving John, and here I thought there was nothing I would not give you.

     “John, hold me” I am selfish by nature though and I will take all that I can have before I leave.

     “Anything, just stay away from that psychopath.” I nod into John’s neck as he holds me in his lap.

     Lying, I am lying to John, but its not the first time and hopefully not the last. I had lied about Sarah in History class liking him, I had lied about Mycroft making me an extra lunch on school field trips. And now I lied about my soon to be association with James Moriarty.

     If one ignored the looming peril of James, it was a lovely weekend. I had for the first time convinced John to stay the entire weekend. We spent Saturday collecting samples for experiments we would run Sunday. However, collecting samples ended in meadow brawls as John blew a dandelion in my face and I tackled him to the warm meadow floor. John's warm beige jumper surrounded on all sides by yellow and pink wild flowers, his tousled shining blond hair decorated with bouts of purple bellflowers. My cheeks were red like the setting sun and I was never so thankful then to be able to blame my lack of physical prowess as to why I was out of breath that evening.

     While I wrote calculations on Sunday, they weren’t about the few soil samples we managed to collect yesterday. They where about Johns sleeping face, the way the bruises had deepened and only recently started yellowing around the edges. About the way I wanted to lick the blood off of Johns plump split lips.

     Monday dawned and proceeded despite my deepest wishes to remain in that blissful John filled weekend. The final blow was walking past our bench, it would remain for the foreseeable future desolate of my presence and John would arrive and sit on an empty bench alone, again. I hesitated feet shuffling on the grey pavement longing to sprawl across the aged wood and morning damp that our bench offered.

     “Sherlock! Have you made your decision? I’m not a patient boy.”

     “Of Course, James, I’m hardly indecisive.”

     “Quite, and do call me Moriarty. Throwing my parents name around gives me an edge in this pompous school.”

     I had started a list of sorts, the differences between John and James; James always yelled or sang or shrieked. John shouted Three times by my count and always spoke in soft dulcet tones.

James skin was pale and porcelain, refined he would say. John Skin was tan and freckled, rugged with scars and colored with constantly refreshed bruises.

James was cruel where John was Kind.

James Sneered while John laughed.

James was arrogant while John was patient.

     Johns bruises got worse, his father must be spiraling or perhaps a dark voice in my head whispered, this was the price John had to pay for a weekend away. By all accounts John was quitter. He still got top marks in class, his teachers poorly locked desks tops offered proof of that. But the rumors, spoke of how John no longer raised his hand to answer. The charming warm boy I adore was fading with no one to draw him out and away from his abusive home.

     My focus was slipping, more of my time spent away from Moriarty’s side and next to rugby lockers hoping to hear tidbits about John. Until I found out he dropped out of rugby, the team was devastated. The locker room chatter was filled with "...But he was lined up to play varsity in high school!" and "...One day he’d told the couch he didn’t have the time to play anymore, can you believe that! just walking up to coach and quitting."

     I couldn’t talk to John about it, Moriarty would skin me if he found out but if I bumped into Harry, well Moriarty wouldn’t care to know Johns siblings. I had to catch her at the high school it was my only option, she never came to pick John up. It was a bit of a walk and Mycroft would be livid at me leaving him in the middle school parking lot but Johns safety was worth a lecture. Though to my surprise, an emotion I hadn’t felt in my weeks with Moriarty. Harriet Watson was screaming at the office aid in the entrance of our school.

     “what do you mean you can't release his records to me! I'm his sister!”

     “Well ma’am, I’m afraid we are only allowed to give out attendance record to his legal guardians.”

     “He’s missing! He didn’t come home last night! Do you see me!!! This is what happens when that little shit decides to run away!”

     “He’s hasn’t come home?” I asked voice braking the awkward tension filling the wide tiled entrance way.

     Harriet spun towards me revealing she was indeed covered in bruises her denim short showcasing bruises along her legs that trialed up as far as her cheekbones. In that moment I realized how much John hid from me with his baggy jumpers and grass stained pants. An now I knew why he never spent the night, his father clearly didn’t care who took the brunt of his rage, and John was always covered in bruises.

     “Where is he Sherlock? Look what hes done to me!”

     “I don’t know where John is.” Harry growled at my response pulling me by my jacket lapels outside.

     “Don’t lie to me! Your attached at the Hip.”

     “I don’t know.”

     The resignation in my voice or maybe just the repetitive nature of my answer broke her. She sat on the front entrance steps of our school the last bell of the day long since rung and sobbed into her scabbing palms.

     “Its his fault! Dad wouldn’t hit me if John where home, he left for a whole weekend and the next week he started coming home already bruised. I, I … I thought dad was gonna kill him!!! an... and then, he just stopped blocking the hits half way through… and now he’s not coming home at all and God dads gonna do to me what he’s been doing to John. I need to find Him Sherlock! I, I can’t take Dads hits like John can. Dad will kill me!” She was sobbing, and hiccuping snot ran down her face as she begged for her little brother to martyr himself for her sake.

     “You are disgusting.”

     Johns sense of loyalty astounded me, she was vile and selfish and he refused to let me help him for her pathetic sake. Now he was missing and she could only think of herself. Even more concerning then her thankless tears was what she had said about John coming home bruised. Typically I would throw away the remark as rugby scuffles but he’d quite... Cold ran through my veins, he’d quite because his body couldn’t anymore abuse.

     Moriarty had lied about putting a stop to Johns daily school yard beatings. It was the only logical conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This feels a bit desperate, but, I think it would help me a lot if I had at least one beta reader.  
> ... so if anyone reading this is mildly interested in me sending you 3a.m. rough drafts please inform me.


	5. Blind Sided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We did it! we are here, its the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The timeliness of this chapter is 110% due to my lovely editor rickyhorrorseyelash.

_Sherlock_

As a chilly ache ran through me, lifting my flesh. 

“Horripilation,” a voice similar to John’s chimed in the back of my head, the medical cause for goosebumps.

O’ John, what an idiot I have been! I was so sure my distance would protect you. Rather Moriarty had outsmarted me, as much as the thought bristled and annoyed me. Clever, the best way to get to John was by factoring me out of the equation.

It was clear Moriarty had John, but would he attend the beatings himself? Easy enough to answer, call Moriarty. He picked up on the second ring.

“Where is John?” I demanded.

“Finally figured it out, have you? Not very sharp of you, Sherley. I thought you would surely know when rumour of him dropping rugby circulated, but NO! You were still blindly at my side. Don’t you see? Sherley, he makes you blind and dull!”

“WHERE IS JOHN!” I shouted down the line.

“Ooh! Lost your patience, have you? Well let me treat you then. JOHNNY BOY! Scream for me would you?”

“...Fuck off...”John’s cut off words were followed by a hollow shout and a dull thud.

“John...” I mouthed, a habitual reaction to my John being in pain. Ever so dearly hoping Moriarty hadn’t noticed my moment of weakness.

“Sherley! Do come quickly, I am getting ever so bored. I can’t quite seem to understand how he ever kept you entertained.”

Silence. The phone call shut off, the white numbers indicating a call time of 3 minutes and 26 seconds. That was all that remained as my mind replayed John’s hollow screams, again and again.

“Sherlock, who was that? What was that shouting? Do you know where John is?” Harry stood shaking me, chipped red nail polish digging into my clothed upper arms. Unimportant.

Where? Come on, where? John’s location was all that mattered. Think, Sherlock, Bloody think! Where would Moriarty take John... the pool? While poetic, not feasible. Too far away. His home? Dull, idiotic. You hardly beat a kid in front of your parents.

The school? Feasible, but why bother leaving? Would John have stayed here all night? It would certainly explain how he’d kept his attendance records up while apparently not going home last night.

There was a larger factor however, which was John getting beaten at school for weeks, right under my nose. What’s that quote... ‘So busy looking back that you miss what is right in front of you.’ Nonsense, surely I would have… I must have… when was the last time I’d seen John. A week ago, when… when I looked away because the bruising was the worst I had ever seen. It had hurt too much to watch.

“Harry! Call the police!”

“What! Sherlock… we can’t! Dad will get…”

“No! Call them here! I know where John is.”

“I don’t…”

“Call!”

I was off, dashing back into the school down freshly janitor mopped floors. The secretary previously shouting at Harry was now shouting at me to slow down.

I couldn’t, I wouldn’t, I may have exaggerated to Harry though… I only have the barest of notions as to where John is, no clue as to what floor or class room he actually resides in.

Surely an abandoned one, if he managed to sleep their last night. In fact maybe not a classroom at all. Perhaps more likely a basement storage room… yes!

I took a sharp left turn towards the basement staircase. But of course I lost my footing, sprawling across slippery tiles and into the basement door. Catching myself against the wall, I used my momentum to push off, on my feet again, white knuckling the guard rail down two flights of poorly lit stairs.

A vague scuffling noise could be heard at the bottom of the stairwell as I opened the stairwell door. Reaching the white walled basement littered with closed white doors poorly labelled with black bold print.

There was a crashing to the left, immediately followed by a shriek and a peel of laughter.

The rubber of my shoes slaps loudly against the tile, echoing along with the sounds of laughter and harsh grunts. Noise reverberating and shaking my ribs the closer I get. Suddenly the clatter of metal on tile, the wet sound of flesh hitting flesh the drip of fluid the grunts of pain and peels of…

“I’m pretty impressed you’ve lasted this long what has it been two, three weeks?” more laughter

“I WANT AN ANSWER JOHNNNY!”

“Hardly feels like a day...” a thud, wet slapping of skin on tile.

“Is that what Sherlock sees in you? Idiocy repackaged as bravery? Or would you call that wit? Sebastian?”

“Idiocy, Moriarty,” a new voice in the fold.

“Obviously... more than he saw in you, you psychopath!” O’ lovely courageous John remarked.

“SHUT UP! What is there to see in someone like you anyway!”

I panted, wildly out of breath, At least Moriarty’s shouting gave away John’s location. The door furthest down the corridor, locked of course.

Dropping to my knees, the vague sting of a sudden fall aches through me. Easily ignored, John is on the other side, so close… lock pick the door. Easy! I had been doing it since childhood. My hands were shaking, why wouldn’t they stop shaking? O’ visions being impaired, why? A shaking hand reaches up to my eyes, wet … I’m crying. Useless this doesn’t help John! Shaky hands and watery eyes will not do. I need to help Jo….

“Nothing! That’s what. Dead mum, alcoholic father, alcoholic sister. I’m sensing a pattern!”

“Whore of a sister too, she bought ecstasy off me.” The new voice adds.

“And then there’s you, straight A, Rugby captain, Lil miss goody two shoes. Hah! Can you even afford two shoes? From what I hear you are nothing but a leech, I can see it, can’t you Sebastian?”

“You are right Moriarty, he looks like a leech.”

“What about you Johnny boy, can you see just what a leech you are? Leeching everything from Sherlock, his money, his time, his life. Wasted, looking at a leech like you!”

“I’d rather look at someone like me, then at you anytime.” John growls… stop please John. Don’t provoke him...

“Yeah, I bet you loved looking at Sherlock, he’s so much better then you will ever be. I bet you made a right nuisance staring at him. Let’s fix that shall we? Sebastian I’ve had a lovely idea. Why don’t you get the oil?”

So close, lock’s almost open. Please just fall into place pin, If I could just stop shaking!

“What are you?” John’s voice for the first time, doesn’t sound like slurred confidence, instead laced with fear and pain.  O’ please no! OPEN DOOR PLEASE!

Footsteps running down the hall, too many, too loud. I can’t hear what is happening, John? What’s happening I can’t hear?!?

“Move aside!!!” police, it was police. The door was being kicked open, I was pushed on my ass, sitting on cool tile. Curses, so much noise… still couldn’t see John, please move your legs. I couldn’t see my John! Blood! So much blood, the officers were walking through it. Why was it so loud? John where is he… corner of the room officer leaning down, John. Relief... why is he covering his eyes? Why? Oh no, no, no!

\------

“You’re awake, stop being petty.” 

Mycroft. Paper covered bed. Disinfectant... hospital.

“No.”

“For Christ sake Sherlock you passed out like a Victorian maiden! You’re not even injured!”

Injured, so much blood, why is he covering his eyes…

“John?”

A deep sigh, “yes.”

“I know he’s injured, give me specifics!”

I sat up, tearing the pristine paper with my sudden motion. Mycroft was sat there, in a formal suit, watching me, paperwork sticking out of his bag. Of course he’s still working, typical.

“It would be a shorter list to tell you what isn’t damaged”

I lifted an eyebrow. The general Holmes signal to proceed.

“… they didn’t rape him.”

“Is that the best you can say?” I was off the bed, ready run-down tile hallways to find John again.

“Sherlock,” Mycroft’s voice was delicate, like when he told me red beard had been hit by a car.

“Before you go to him you should know, he is…”

“What, Mycroft he’s what? Dying, bloody and bruised, all alone! I know!”

“Blind Sherlock. They blinded him.”


End file.
